Casual Arrangement
by designislife1
Summary: AU. Ana knows what she wants, to study in Yale and make a career for hersef as a succesful lawyer. As a Senior in high school she is too worried about getting good grades for a scholarship than dating, that's why she has a casual arrangement with popular bad boy Christian Grey; no feelings, just sex. But things get messy when Christian starts feeling more than just lust for Ana.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! So, this is my first time writing a fifty shades story… and first time writing smut, God I'm so scared! If anybody has any feedback I would forever thank you!**

Nights were starting to take a toll on me.

I gripped the biology book in my hands tighter, as if that could somehow will the blurry letters into taking shape. The ecosystems test was the next day and I hadn't studied a thing. It had always been one of my least favorite topics, even though Biology was one of my favorite subjects, and for that I had put off studying for as long as I could, making a study sheet two weeks ago and reading it every now and then, trying to memorize the types and subtypes instead of actually understanding them, and now I was screwed.

If I failed this test it wouldn't only mean that my grade would drop, a grade I needed to get the scholarships I am applying to, but it would also mean that my grade dropped in one of the easiest subjects only because I was too lazy to study…

I blinked harder, forcing the fogginess in my mind to dissipate, I would not fail.

 _I would not fail, I would not fail._

I can't afford to.

Realizing my efforts were useless I let the textbook sit on my bed as I got up and started walking around my small room, hoping the insignificant exercise would help me. I just needed a little break so I took my socks off and let my feet feel the carpet underneath, cooling my body a notch. Despite the falling snow outside, my room had always managed to stay hot in both winter and summer, and between the growing heat and the sleepiness, it wasn't a good place to be at if I wanted to learn anything. Problem was, there was simply nowhere else to go; our house was small, two same-size bedrooms, one bathroom, one kitchen and a garage outside that resembled more a black hole rather than an additional room; with so little place we had to find a way to manage how to store stuff, and so anything that needed to be fixed, worked to fix stuff and generally random stuff like old magazines and childhood toys were stuffed in the garage, even if sometimes the car couldn't get in.

I was just starting to do crunches, considering the walk wasn't helping when I heard a knock on the window.

It couldn't be.

My wrist watch showed it was 1:37 A.M. and even though it wasn't a strange hour for him, it was impossible he was now outside, not with this weather.

Still, I slowly made my way to the window, fully aware of the fact that I was only on my panties and t-shirt, ready to scream if it was some creep waiting. Or Miss Scaven's cat with a dying rat again. Not that I had much qualms with roaders, but I drew a line when the rat was bigger than the fat feline and ready to attack, no matter how "almost dying" it was.

It had to be 14 FH outside, the snow covered two feet up the grass already as the wind blew heavily through the trees, and still Christian had managed to get here from his house and looking, of course, virtually unaffected by the cold.

"Ahhh, thank God." He whispered as he came inside, giving me a peck on the cheek and walking straight to the heater on the corner, rubbing his hands on the hot air.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed, crossing my arms at the now cold bedroom. He lifted an eyebrow, confused.

"Emm… what we always do when I come here?" He shrugged and added, unsure "I hope?"

"Christian, there is a fricken snow storm outside! Your motorbike isn't even outside, did you walk all the way down here?"

"It's just a little snow." He waved a hand carelessly, dismissing my worries. "And I left it where I always do, so your mom doesn't see it." He stated as if I had forgotten how I had asked that of him when we started this little arrangement.

I wanted to tell him I was studying, that I didn't have time for doing this, and I would have, if it weren't for the storm. I wouldn't ask him to go back outside with the weather like that.

"Just… when the weather is like this, don't come, you can't be that desperate."

He grinned.

"Never underestimate me, Ana." He said playfully. "So, how was your day? Any progress with Bio?"

I ignored his questions, and more importantly, how natural they were as if we were old friends catching up. Lately this easiness Christian had seemed to be getting worse. We started this about three month ago after working on a group assignment for methodology class. Christian was a player, the rich bad boy who never settled with anybody, who wouldn't keep a girlfriend for more than a few days, and that had been why I had taken him into my room that afternoon. Christian wouldn't want anything permanent, just like me, and we would be two people blowing off some steam but what I expected would be a one or two times thing had turned into a month, and a month into two until he started staying longer, just talking instead of bolting out the window.

On the school it was even weirder. We used to almost never cross paths, and if we did we just kept walking. Now I sometimes looked up to find him staring at me when he was supposed to be listening to his friends.

Whatever was happening to him it had to stop. Nothing good could come out of it.

"About that…" I said casually, walking to my bed and picking up the heavy book. "I'm studying so we won't do anything. You can stay since it's freezing outside but I'm busy."

"How long have you been with that?" He jutted his chin toward the hardback. I had expected he would shrug and leave like he had done the times before, so his question took me off guard.

"Mmm… I don't know, two hours maybe. Why?"

"C'mon, you're telling me you didn't come home and went straight up to start studying?"

"I did other things." I lied, offended at the fact that I was, apparently, so predictable. "And now I need to study."

He smiled and looked at me, not a sly grin like the many he would give me before I wrapped my arms around his neck, this was an authentic smile, happy even and it made me more uncomfortable. I couldn't remember the last time someone had looked at me like that.

"You always say you need to rest before a test or you'll forget everything." He walked off the wall and sat on the bed with me following his every move carefully. "Want me to help you distract you?" There it was, the grin I had known so well. I couldn't help but to roll my eyes.

"I'll have plenty of time to rest tomorrow, thank you very much." I crossed my legs, emphasizing that it was settled and I went back to my book, let him do whatever he wanted.

I did not expect his lips on my shoulders.

"What are you doing?" I asked, trying very hard not to shudder at the familiar contact. I could not be distracted, no matter how much I wanted to.

"You need to rest," he said, his mouth trailing up my neck and I had to squeeze my legs together to stop the ache. No, no, I needed to study. Not to get distracted, I couldn't fail this test, I couldn't. "You'll burn out." He whispered against my jaw, his hand travelling up my tight, playing with the hem of my underwear.

"No," I breathed as I angled my head so his mouth could continue his path downwards. "I just need to revise the last three chapters and… then we can continue." There, I had made a compromise, wasn't that enough? But he just kept kissing his way down my shirt, his right hand playing on my waist and his left hand now getting bolder, travelling further down. I knew, of course, that he might be a bit right, I did need to get my mind out of study if I wanted to remember anything for the day after but, paranoid as I was, I always managed to convince myself I needed less rest and more hours revising, and that ended up with half an hour of sleep and a crappy mood the whole day.

My breath stuttered when his finger started rubbing gently against my underwear, not with too much pressure and not too fast, but enough to drive me crazy and the bastard knew it. I had to bite my lips to keep myself from groaning.

"I… I…" I couldn't hold on for much longer.

"Yes?" I swear I felt him smile against my neck before his tongue darted out, licking deliberately slow and I lost it. I turned around and wrapped my arms around his neck, sitting on his lap and started rubbing myself against him. His mouth was on mine before I could think and he angled himself better so he could hold my hips and drag them against his growing erection. I groaned against his mouth when he opened my legs wider and the pleasure got more intense, he bucked his hips against me with every rub and the feeling of him hard and long got me hotter. I started rubbing harder and faster, and my hands quickly got rid of his jacket and T-shirt so now only his soft skin remained for me to lick and scratch.

Again our tongues met, desperate as we both panted for breath and he got rid of my shirt in seconds, his fingers playing with my hard nipples.

"Just this once." I panted, kissing his neck and holding his back for dear life. When he managed to lower his jeans and he rubbed his hard penis against my clit I arched my back in pleasure. His eyes found mine and his hand left my hip to caress the side of my face, and, besides the desire I see something else, something that has me squirming under his gaze. If I didn't know Christian better, I would say it was love.

"Just this once." He agreed before he kissed me again.

Thoughts? Ideas? English is not my native language, so my apologies for any mistake!


	2. Chapter 2

**Mmm… HOLY CRAP YOU GUYS! I can't believe the response this fic got, you have all been so amazing and kind and wonderful! I hope the story can live up to your expectations! Thank you so, so much, I'm blown away!**

 **Now, just a heads up this part can be a bit strange, but it's all part of the plot and it will be explained later on. Enjoy!**

The woman sat on her rental car clutching tightly the envelope in her hands.

She hadn't been followed, though she doubted anybody could if they wanted; the car was one of the cheapest in the lot, the seller accepted her cash without questions and she had used the old carcass to drive to the meeting spot fully in disguise. The wig did most of the job since without her typical haircut and color she looked virtually unrecognizable. Some cheap sunglasses perched high on her nose helped hide her delicate face better.

Nobody could tell her apart and yet, she was scared.

He would kill her.

Just as she was contemplating leaving the parking lot and dropping the whole plan, he arrived. The decision was made for her. The car parked beside hers, a black Clio not too new nor too old, nothing that could draw attention, and the man entered her car.

"Got everything?" He asked, plain and simple, the planning had never stopped.

The woman handed him the brown envelope and he examined the content, took out two random bills of one hundred and examined them under a flashlight.

"Good. Have you set the date?"

"June the second." She answered, the date so simple had held a lot of meaning for her, and she had spent weeks deciding on whether she was choosing the right one. It would be the day she would be free, if everything went according to plan.

"Perfect. We'll contact you later this month to set the details straight, after which we'll break all communications until the given date, you understand?"

"Of course." And with that, no good luck or goodbye, the man left and the woman drove off, a weight had been lifted off her shoulders but a heavier one had been placed instead.

Everything was in motion; there was no going back now. One way or another she would be free.

And Christian Grey wouldn't live past his next birthday.

 **Sooo, what do you guys think?**


	3. Chapter 4

**I had forgotten I had written this chapter so I decided to post it because I'm trying to avoid college's homework. Shhhh, don't say a word!**

 **You have been so kind with your comments but, for that guest who said he/she should have been nicer, you weren't bad at all! This was my decision, it was no one's fault and you have a right to say what you think, don't ever be afraid of doing so.**

"Christian." A low whisper woke me up, if only for a second before I sank my face deeper into the pillow. The bed felt so good, and the pillow smelt like her, like that floral perfume she loves so much.

"Christian!" The voice returned, more urgent now, and a small hand shook my arm.

"Ana?" _Just ten more minutes_ I murmured, not ready to wake up just yet. I lifted my arm to try and lay her against me, just for a little while at least, but she dodged it.

"My mom is up. You gotta go."

That woke me up.

"What time is it?" I jerked up on the bed only to found Ana already dressed in her usual light-blue jeans and pink, heavy sweater. How long had I been asleep? Usually I left at six, half an hour before her mom woke up.

"Late," she replied simply. "Come, move! Move!" She pulled the blankets off me and handed me my clothes already bundled in a ball. I could hear movement on the other side of the house, the noise of casseroles and water running. At least her mom wouldn't come here in a while but I still hurried up, not bothering in tying my shoes too well nor putting on underwear.

A knock on the door startles me and I see Ana's head snapping in its direction only to look back at me and mouth hurry, then rushing to the door and disappearing outside. I don't bother to try and see if her mom has spotted me, instead I pick the rest of my stuff and try to silently open her window and slid outside.

There is instantly something wrong when I feel the floor too soon but looking down I see a thick layer of snow covering the side garden, reaching up to my knees. I take a few steps before I realize I'm leaving a very noticeable path of where I came and where I'm going. I could already picture Ana trying to explain to her mom what those tracks outside were all about and went back to save her the trouble, using my jacket to spread the snow a little more evenly so nobody could tell I had been there. Thank God none of her neighbors could see me from this place, her window led to a makeshift hall between her home and another neighbor.

It was a slow pace, trying to walk and delete my steps as I moved but once I got to the shoveled sidewalk it was over and I ran the three blocks from Ana's home to the grocery store I always parked my motorbike.

There were no problems, as usual, nobody really seemed to pay too much attention to people in this neighborhood unless they meant trouble, and a guy going around doing his own business was not something to notice here.

The grocery was one of those places that didn't seem to mind a bike or a car parked indefinitely on its lot, the clients and owners were probably used to it considering how there was the _always present_ yellow beetle, with its chipped paint and tires so deflated and old they had to be part of the ground itself. A few bikes were tied with thick chains on the metal railing near the end of the place and there were days when they stood there, unmoved despite the heavy traffic of people until one day they weren't there anymore.

Today, with the snow falling steadily from the sky making the streets slippery and my hands go numb with the cold, was a crappy day, and that led to a crappy mood that got even crappier when I remembered I couldn't miss today's class, at least the first three hours. Dad had, for some inexplicable reason, the idea that I was somehow, someday going to be the heir to his shipping empire, and for that I needed a University degree, which required for me to attend stupid High School. He had never really cared that I didn't like school or even that I never passed any subjects, something hard to achieve when you were never in class. But when I failed the year and had to do it all over again his attention spiked, probably because he realized his son would be a useless moron that couldn't do shit, and for many dreams dad had of keeping up "his legacy" he was smart enough to realize that it wouldn't last for too long if he left it in the hands of his illiterate son, so we had made a deal. I could do whatever I wanted, including putting my hands on the family's money, as long as I graduated this year and went to university after.

I had tried to reason with him, long ago, that I could never be the man he wanted me to be but there was no such thing as reason with Christian Grey Senior, you either did it his way, or... there was no _or._

After driving what felt like an hour against the cold wind, I finally entered my house's ground. Instead of being a part of the community like any regular folk, dad had insisted on building a new house on the outsides of town. Not even a select neighborhood like mom had begged, no we were in complete isolation as the house's ground extended far and beyond. Creepy little place it was.

I left the motorbike on the outside garden, not even bothering to park it right and went inside the ridiculously big mansion. That was another thing dad had, he liked everything big and no, I won't make a dirty joke about that. He had the stupid idea that bigger was always better, whether that was his empire, his home or the amount of stuff he collected.

I had twenty minutes for a shower before having to go and complete the necessary hours of assistance I needed for graduating, so I ran all the way up to the main doors.

Tomson wasn't on the hall, probably been yelled by dad again. He had been in a crappy mood lately and always took it out on whoever was near, Tomson the poor guy was always the punching bag.

I was a few steps from my bedroom when Natasha appeared from the adjacent hall and my stomach turns. Dressed in her usual Barbie doll gown, mom looks the same as always, at least were it not for the bruise on her left cheek. Last week was, what? Oh right, the choking strains on her neck. I fist my hands to stop myself from punching something, or yelling at her.

"Morning honey." She smiles softly and comes to kiss my cheek but I dodge her before she reaches me.

"I'm late." Is my sort of apology, something so that she won't make me stop and talk to her. I slam the door shut and start taking my clothes off, trying to ignore the nausea forming.

I can't remember a time when I was a kid when I didn't wonder what happened to mom, why she could be so happy and so sad at the same time, why she sometimes came home crying with bruises on her body, and why during those times she barely seemed able to look dad in the eye while he did his best to never let his eyes off of her.

I must have been eleven or twelve when one night dad was drunk and called Natasha a whore.

I had asked, _and asked, and asked_ until he one day confessed how they weren't getting along and were getting some time off, because mom didn't want to be at home anymore. As a kid at that age, I simply could not understand it. Sure, mom had always had her strange moods but they ahd always seemed normal to me. I did not understand why dad had called her that nasty word, or why she would not want to be at home anymore, was it just home or did she just want to get away from me? I had already problems at school and, while dad had always ignored me, mom was the one who took care of me, went to the stupid parent meetings when she could do better thing with her time, took me out for ice cream when I was down because dad had yelled at me.

If she left, was it because she had gotten tired of me?

She never left but I soon found out that my dad's story had not been the truth; it turned out mom had gotten tired of her marriage but wouldn't divorce due to the legal aspects of their matrimony that somehow tied it back to dad's company. So mom, unable to leave, would go out and find another guy, _any guy_ that gave her the slightest bit of attention and be with them until she got tired or they beat her almost to death. It was always the lowest assholes she went after, apparently, and being a low piece of shit, you do fucked up stuff.

I had always kept quiet, ashamed and at the same time scared she would leave if I said something, but when I saw her the first time of her "rough times" when she could barely walk and speak from her jaw being broken I had cried and begged mom to stop but she wouldn't listen. Mom would just smile and pat my hair and leave it at that, it wasn't long before she had something in her body broken again.

Dad had tried talking with her too, but after some time he gave up, and instead focused on making sure nobody knew about mom's dirty business. If anybody saw her, they always had an excuse set up and whenever they had to go out in public the make-up did wonders to hide the black marks.

After sometime, I got tired too. She didn't care about what happened to her, she didn't care about what she did to this family, so why should I? At one point I stopped caring, I stopped trying and instead mom and I had settled in a sick game of pretending everything was fine; when I saw her with a bruise, cut or crying I would pretend I didn't see her, and she would pretend she didn't see me be affected by it. Or perhaps, perhaps she didn't care at all.

Who cared about me anyway? As if there was something to care about.

I took my shirt off and tossed it on the bed but instead it landed on the floor, next to Ana's gift. Reluctantly I walked around the bed and picked up the decorated package from the stash of magazines and weight it in my hands, trying to decide what to do with it once and for all.

It had been one night when Ana, asking what one of the phrases on my t-shirt meant, had started a two hour long conversation. I smiled in spite of myself as I remembered her eyes light up when she told me about one of her favorite books, at least for now, since she said she could never pick one for too long. She had read it and loved it, but had never had the time or money to buy the next two books in the series. She had fallen asleep in my arms that night, a satisfied smile on her lips.

It had been the best night of my life.

I had ran the next day to purchase the three books but, for some reason, I had never given them to her.

It felt too personal and something she wouldn't like. I sighed and left the package on my bed, promising myself I would give it to her one of these days, regardless of what that could do.

The thing about Ana was I could never figure her out, just when I thought I understood her, when I thought I could grasp a shred of her thinking, she did or said something that baffled me and a whole new level of her would emerge. There were nights when we talked and she looked at me smiling as if she couldn't be happier. Nights when she would kiss my neck and draw circles on my hand as I babbled something probably incoherent, way too happy to form anything rational. But she never minded, instead she would lie against me and breathe deeply and I could believe for a moment, for an hour that she could love me.

But there were other times when she put a wall between us and no matter how much I kissed her, how strong I held her I could never break it. The sex was great, amazing but it was just that, no stars in her eyes, no happiness. I was nothing but a break from study.

During those days I convinced myself I had imagined the whole thing up, that the relationship was _waaay_ one sided and I had made a little fantasy for myself with a girl that would never see me as more than the slow, rich kid who never had to work for anything in his entire life. Ana was strong and smart, she would do something with her life not because she was born into a wealthy family or because they had great hopes in her, she would succeed for herself, because she wanted that life for her and she would work until she made it happen. How could I believe she could something for me that wasn't pity or even disgust?

But despite all of that, I can't ignore the fact that, as much as I hate school I won't skip a day of school in the hopes I might see her again in the halls.


End file.
